


Moonlight Under My Skin

by tryslora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: fullmoon_ficlet, Drabble Sequence, M/M, Moonlight, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:51:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It feels weird, the way the moon pricks under his skin and calls the wolf out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight Under My Skin

**Author's Note:**

> A little Stanny to start off my fullmoon prompts (written for Prompt #40 - Skin), and the first time I have ever written Stiles as getting the bite. Hope you enjoy! This is unbetaed and unedited, so I apologize for any missing words or bad grammar. As always, I do not own the world or characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

Stiles hates being a werewolf.

He never wanted the bite. In fact, he had managed to actively avoid the bite for the entirety of his high school career, despite one alpha offering, another threatening, and being best friends with a third. Then he got to college, got in over his head with a coven of witches, and somehow ended up bitten to save his life.

He’s thankful to Danielle for what she did. If she hadn’t, he’d have bled out in the basement of a sorority house while witches summoned demons overhead. But it still doesn’t mean he wants it.

#

After three months—three _moons_ —he hates it. He can feel when the full moon is drawing near, the way it pricks under his skin, calling the wolf to the surface. He fights it every step of the way, and Danielle laughs at the way his eyes flash deeply amber instead of bright yellow as he forces his humanity to stay close.

She’s the closest thing he has to a pack here in Oregon, and he finds it funny. “I knew a guy named Danny once,” he says idly.

She keeps him sane at the full moon, naked and howling.

#

He called Scott right after it happened, begged him to come out and visit. Scott refused; Danielle is an alpha in her own right, and he couldn’t interfere with pack politics, such as they were.

But he talks to Scott on the phone right before the full moon and right after, and Scott knows how hard it is for Stiles. How uncomfortable he is with this demon that rides under his skin, just waiting for a moment when it can burrow out.

“You need to learn to control it,” Scott tells him. “Before it controls you.”

It’s easy for Scott.

#

Freshman year ends.

Danielle graduates and she leaves Stiles with a kiss and a phone number and nothing more. He packs up and gets on a plane to return home, trying not to fidget as soon as they leave the safety of land. It’s too close to _that time_ and the wolf hates being separated from the solidity of earth.

Stiles takes enough Dramamine that he sleeps the entire flight.

Scott’s waiting and he leaps on Stiles as soon as he clears security, hugging him so hard that Stiles can barely breathe.

He smells strange, different than Danielle.

Like home.

#

His first moon with Scott is different than anything else. They go the preserve alone. Stiles isn’t ready to tell the rest of the pack, and Scott will let him keep that secret for a little while. Not long, he says, and Stiles agrees. Just long enough to figure out he fits back in.

They run, and they howl, and at the end of it Stiles is worn out and overjoyed and at the same time, he is restless, missing something that he had been getting before.

It isn’t that he wants sex.

It isn’t even that he wants Danielle.

#

Stiles slips back into the pack as if he had never left. Lydia has a welcome home party for them all, and he sits on the edge of the pool, toes in the water, trying to decide if he wants to go in.

He doesn’t expect to feel the prick of the moon against his skin.

Not now.

Not when the moon is absent from the sky at night, that blackness empty and calm.

He sucks in a breath and tries not to shiver, fails as a deep shudder rolls through him. He blinks back bright eyes and sharp teeth.

#

“Hey.” Danny sinks to sit next to him, fingertips brushing against Stiles’s hand in a shock that has him pulling back.

Stiles blinks at him, eyes wide. They were pack, yes, but never friends. Never touching kinds of close. “What?” he asks warily.

Danny deliberately lets his hand brush over Stiles again, trailing licks of moonlit fire in his fingers’ wake. “You’ve changed,” he says quietly. “Are you okay?”

Stiles can’t question how he knows. He trusts that Scott wouldn’t say a word, but somehow, Danny _knows_. “Fine. Better than if I hadn’t. But… they don’t know.”

“I won’t tell.”

#

They end up inside, in the front parlor that is supposed to be off limits. Stiles sits with his feet drawn up on the couch, and Danny places one hand over his foot to keep him from tapping.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know what you’re like.” Danny’s grin is smooth and easy, dimples creasing his cheek. “I didn’t mean to startle you. And I’m not sure I believe that you’re okay.”

“I’m _alive_.” Stiles has to put emphasis on that. “I never wanted to be this. I don’t like the way it makes me feel. Like I’m out of control.”

#

“Like this?” Danny’s fingers trail over his skin again, and Stiles shivers.

“Fuck. Yes. Like that.” Stiles watches the path, knows his eyes glow when he looks up. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

“Moonlight,” he says easily. “Mahealani means moonlight, and my family carries a curse. We have to search, every time, to find the wolf that is _our_ wolf. The one that we can call any time we want. The one who can feel the moon when they’re with us.”

Stiles laughs sharply. “And what does the wolf get out of this?”

“Control.”

Oh. Yes. Please.

#

When Lydia walks in, Stiles is straddling Danny, kissing him hungrily. There’s a soft glow all around them, and Stiles knows his eyes flash brightly when he growls at the intrusion.

She puts both hands up and shakes her head. “I don’t want to know. I’m not going to interfere. Just—don’t make a mess of the sofa, okay? And be safe.”

She leaves, and Stiles can hear her talking to Scott in the distance. He doesn’t care, not anymore.

All Stiles cares about is that he has _his_ moonlight, pricking under his skin, perfect and bright.

He’s not alone.


End file.
